Longevity Brevity

One day at summer school, I approached a pretty girl who I only knew by name. I pressed my finger to her exposed midriff and said, "pudgy."



I survived, and she became my girlfriend. That was when I looked like this:



The other day I was talking to a pretty girl I know. I think I know her pretty well. I at least know her better than someone who only chats with her in cyberspace. (Teasing a friend here.) I told her, "you're getting fat," and also, "I noticed it in your ass."



It didn't go as well as the first time I tried that opening gambit. Not sure why. This time I look more like this:



I even wear funny hats too.

Thinking about it, I notice there are many things that change as you get older. One thing I learned is that modern girls don't know how to take a compliment. Also, as I get older, my balls shrink.

Not literally. I mean my risk tolerance has really gone down. Twelve years ago I was really into rollerblading. We used to skate through towns, schools, malls, wherever. We skated on benches, curbs, planters, walls, anything. We played roller hockey even though we didn't know how, and we used to slam each other good into the fence. We jumped down stairs and walls. We did 180s and 360s off of jumps. If it was 7 steps or lower, we did it without thinking. If it was higher, we did it with some thinking. I didn't mind getting road rash on my appendages.



Then the years went by. Now I seem to be like this major pussy. Little drops of about one to two feet scare me. The weird thing is that there should be no reason for my fear. I can handle the bike well enough that those little drops should pose no problem. Hell, I should be able to do drops like this one:



Instead, I get shaky doing little hucks like this fool here:



Perhaps it's a survival instinct. I know I don't heal as fast as a young, dumb, full of *bodily fluids* man anymore. Maybe it's my body's way of telling me that I really don't want to end up like this:



But it defies logic. I have crashed or injured myself almost every weekend we ride our bikes in the mountains. Fearing jumps and drops hasn't prevented me from getting hurt. It seems more like trying to chamois a car in the rain.

So what is it?

Probably the fact that I need to work on Mondays. When you're young and dumb, you never think about where you get your money from. When you have a career, you tend to think about keeping your job by not breaking your neck.



Actually, the most plausible explanation for the self-preservation would be to make sure I can live long enough to piss everyone off! HAHAHA!

The Great Lessons of Life: As told by Real Genius

Real Genius (1985) starring Val Kilmer. It was a movie that gave Kilmer boost in Hollywood. It was a movie embraced by nerds and commonfolk alike.



This movie follows two teenaged geniuses as they try to survive through college. They have to perfect a powerful laser as their final project. Along the way, they have to deal with a devious professor and a jealous classmate. Oh, and the Air Force gets involved too.

But the real genius of Real Genius is the little life lessons hidden within the great dialogue. Many people discount this movie as a geek movie, but it is right up there with the other greats such as Apocalypse Now.




Jordan: Are you going to take me home to meet your parents?
Mitch: No, I don't think so
.Jordan: Why? Are you ashamed of me?
Mitch: No, them.
Jordan: Oh.
You should never have friends you're ashamed of. Parents, on the other hand, you got no choice in the matter.


Lazlo Hollyfeld: Did you wanna borrow my pajamas?
Real friends are willing to give you the shirt off their back, or their pajamas. Whichever.


Lazlo Hollyfeld: How did you do?
Chris Knight: I passed... then I failed.
Lazlo Hollyfeld: Then I'm happy... and sad for you.
You don't always have to win to be the victor.




Chris Knight: You see Mitch, I used to be you. Lately I've been missing me so I asked Dr. Hathaway if I could room with me again and he said sure.
It's nice when friends share common interests, hobbies, activities.


[Chris is holding a lab beaker with pink liquid in it]
Chris Knight: Here Mitch taste this. Too sweet?
Mitch: No... what is it?
Chris Knight: I don't know, I found it in one of the labs.
[Mitch starts to wipe out his mouth]
Chris Knight: I'm just kidding. It's yogurt.
It's great to trust your friends, but make sure you look before you leap. They may be playing pranks on you.




Mitch: This is coherent light.
Mitch's dad: Oh, so it talks.
Sometimes people won't understand what you say, but it's ok.


[last lines]
'Ick' Ikagami: Do you think it's getting weird around here?
Chris Knight: Absolutely.
It's ok to have some weirdness. Weirdness makes life fun. It's the absence of weirdness that should be considered scary.




Chris Knight: Self-realization. I was thinking of the immortal words of Socrates, when he said, "I drank what?"
You're not the first one who has problems, and you won't be the last. Try talking to someone. They may know what you're going through, or how to help.


[Chris Knight is trying to hit on Susan, a beautiful woman he finds in Professor Hathaway's house]
Chris Knight: So, if there's anything I can do for you, or, more to the point, to you, you just let me know.
Susan: Can you hammer a six-inch spike through a board with your penis?
Chris Knight: Not right now.
Susan: A girl's gotta have her standards.
[She walks out]
This is why I am single.




Professor Hathaway: Mitch, will you miss your friends?
Mitch: Well, no. I think I intimidate other kids.
Professor Hathaway: Good boy.
And this is why I have few friends.


Professor Hathaway: What are you looking at? You're laborers; you should be laboring. That's what you get for not having an education.
Study hard so you don't have to work at some dick's house.




Chris Knight: If you think that by threatening me you can get me to do what you want... Well, that's where you're right. But - and I am only saying that because I care - there's a lot of decaffeinated brands on the market that are just as tasty as the real thing.
There is nothing wrong with licking boot. Bow down and kiss arse. Nope, nothing wrong with it if the owner of said boot and arse is in a position of power over you. (or is hot)


[to Chris]
Mitch: We have to get back at Dr. Hathaway, it's a moral imperative.
However, after you lick boot, you need to find some sort of revenge/vent/closure or you'll pop.




Mitch: You know, um, something strange happened to me this morning...
Chris Knight: Was it a dream where you see yourself standing in sort of sun-god robes on a pyramid, with a thousand naked women screaming and throwing little pickles at you?
Mitch: No...
Chris Knight: Why, am I the only one who has that dream?
Glad to know I'm not the only one with wacky dreams. Everyone has some weird thing going on in their head. That doesn't make them less than normal.


[Mitch Taylor speaking through the microphone so that Kent hears voices in his head]
Mitch: And from now on, stop playing with yourself.
Kent: It is God.
God likes to watch us masturbate.




[In the men's room]
Jordan: Are you peeing?
Mitch: Uh, I can't start.
Jordan: Because I'm here?
Mitch: I think so.
Jordan: Weird. Well I have to go.
Mitch: Me too.
There it is! That is an example of the unspoken rule of urinals!


Professor Hathaway: I want to see more of you around the lab.
Chris Knight: Fine. I'll gain weight.
Work smarter, not harder. Saves you effort.


Chris Knight: You didn't touch anything, did you?
Mitch: No.
Chris Knight: Good. Because all of my filth is arranged in alphabetical order. This, for instance, is under 'H' for "toy.
Mitch: What is it?
Chris Knight: It's a penis stretcher. Do you want to try it?
Mitch: No.
Chris Knight: I'm just kidding. It's yet another in a long series of diversions in an attempt to avoid responsibility.
Some of us think and learn in different ways. One person's mess may be another person's spatial organizational system. And penis toys make long diversions.




Chris Knight: Look at it this way. Considering the type of people you are and the environment you're in, you have to admit the strong possibility this may be the only chance you ever have in your entire lives... to have sex.
Yet another reason I am single. Sigh...




Jordan: I never sleep, I don't know why. I had a roommate and I drove her nuts, I mean really nuts, they had to take her away in an ambulance and everything. But she's okay now, but she had to transfer to an easier school, but I don't know if that had anything to do with being my fault. But listen, if you ever need to talk or you need help studying just let me know, 'cause I'm just a couple doors down from you guys and I never sleep, okay?
True friends are always there for you. Even 24 hours a day. Try and call a friend at 3AM to see how true a friend they are.


Professor Hathaway: When you first started at Pacific Tech you were well on your way to becoming another Einstein and then you know what happened?
Chris Knight: I got a haircut?
It's ok to let your hair down so long as people don't mistake you for someone else.


Chris Knight: Moles and trolls, moles and trolls, work, work, work, work, work. We never see the light of day. We plan this thing for weeks and all they want to do is study. I'm disgusted. I'm sorry but it's not like me, I'm depressed. There was what, no one at the mutant hamster races and we had one entry into the Madame Curie look-alike contest and he was disqualified later. Why do I bother?
All work and no play...




[Looking at Dr. Meredith's bunny slippers, then his own]
Chris Knight: May I say, sir, I admire your taste in footwear.
Be yourself. Don't try to conform if it hurts your identity of self.

The Intellectual Whore

I am a filthy whore. A dirty, filthy whore.

A friend pointed out one day that I may be an intellectual whore. Basically, an intellectual whore is a girl's platonic friend. You see, beautiful, nubile, young women tend to avoid short, stout trolls like me. They go for the chiseled abs, the buffed arms, the fast cars, the large phallus, and so on. Brains are optional. Now these girls are happy for a while. Who wouldn't be when you have a Greek god pleasuring you. But then they realize that something is missing.

Brains.

A new lust builds within these women. They lust for intellectual stimulation. When the batteries run out (from their PSPs) they search for the perfect prey. They search for the ugly guy friend who, like, you know, knows stuff, and yeah.

I guess it started back in college. I met the nicer looking of twins and got nowhere. Short, cute, Filipino, and most importantly, female. This has no point to my story.

Back in college my roommate introduced me to Prodigy. He showed me something called "chat." It was an incredible invention. One for the ages. Through the miraculous use of technology you could hurl insults and profanity at completely random people. It was right up there with the wheel. I got hooked.

I signed on to AOL and began chatting. Through several months I learned things that mere mortals would never know unless they were the average teenager who owned a computer. Online you can lack a voice, good hygiene, or a face, and still be good looking.

Me.

Through use of sheer intellect, genius, and creativity, I became a stud.

Intellectual me.

So in a nutshell, the hot, sexy women pick up the loser guys that ooze testosterone. Then they get their intellectual stimulation from me. Because I'm just a gigolo, and everywhere I go people ask me what I'm thinking...

I also charge only $3.99 per minute.

..